


the life we planned (the life that's waiting)

by loonyBibliophile



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Secretly Married, alice cooper sux as per usual, inspired by several tv show episodes including the two shows referenced by jug and betty, this is a hallmark movie. i wrote a hallmark movie.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-14 00:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21006509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyBibliophile/pseuds/loonyBibliophile
Summary: Betty Cooper and her perfect lawyer-to-be boyfriend Adam are finally engaged, but all Betty can feel is dread. As she heads back to her hometown to get ready for the rest of her life, she reminisces about ditching senior prom to spend a weekend in Atlantic City with her best friend, Jughead Jones.In Riverdale, nothing ever goes to plan, and Betty’s engagement is no different when it comes to light that she’s actually already married. To Jughead Jones. And neither of them remember it.





	the life we planned (the life that's waiting)

“We must be willing to get rid of the life we’ve planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” -Joseph Campbell  
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Now

There’s a sense of dread in Betty Cooper’s belly, and she just can’t figure out why. She should be ecstatic. This is the life she’d always wanted, that her family had wanted for her. Her perfect lawyer to be boyfriend, Adam, is down on one knee, holding a diamond that is certainly nothing to sneeze at and a bouquet of white lilies. Betty fights the urge to wrinkle her nose. She hated lilies. They were poisonous to cats, and they always reminded her of funerals. 

“Of course.” she feels herself answering, feels the soft and picture perfect smile on her lips, glossed with the same Pink Perfection lipstick she’d been wearing all her life. 

Betty Cooper is being proposed to, and all she can think about is how she feels exactly like she did before she ran away from her senior prom. 

(Then)

Another perfect day, another sense of dread pooling in Betty’s stomach. She stares out the living room window, waiting to see Archie Andrews leave his house and come over, at long last escorting her to the senior prom, and no doubt into the rest of her life. 

A noise startles her from her reverie. A knock on the door. Did she somehow miss Archie coming this way? Smoothing her light blue skirts, she swings the door open, smiling.

“Oh!” she says, her smile changing into broad grin when the door revealed not Archie, but her other best friend Jughead Jones. He was wearing most of a suit and looking somewhat disgruntled. “Hey Juggie. What’s up?”

“Just came to—” he starts, then stops, grinning at he glances up and down her frame “Betts… you look amazing. Very Marilyn.” he winked, chuckling. 

“I was going for Natalie Wood.” she teases, sticking her tongue out, but blushing slightly. “Anyway, what do you need, Jug?”

“I just wanted to let you know I’m not coming tonight. My platonic “date” bailed on me in favor of a less platonic, actual date.” Jughead rolled his eyes and shrugged. Betty frowned. 

“Oh no! You could come anyway! I’d keep you company.” Betty reached out and squeezed Jughead’s arm. He shot her a look. 

“No offense, Cooper, I love you and Archie, but I don’t love you so much I want to third wheel you guys all night, then have to make myself scarce when he finally makes a move.” Jughead shrugged, refusing to catch Betty’s eye. She frowned again. 

“How am I supposed to have a senior prom without my favorite person in the whole world?” Betty pouted, half a joke and half serious. The feeling of dread she’d had waiting for Archie had doubled now that she knew Jughead wouldn’t be at the dance for her to talk to and hang out with. 

“I’m sorry, Betts.” Jughead said, his voice soft and genuine. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Take me to Pops after?” Betty asks, elbowing him. Jughead gives her another look. 

“I uh, assumed you would be occupied after the dance.” Jughead said with an awkward cough. “But we could go after school Monday, if you don’t have plans?” 

Betty didn’t answer Jughead, because she was too busy trying to wrap her head around the fact that she was going to prom with Archie, and everyone assumed she’d be going home with him, and then they’d finally go steady, and one day they’d get engaged, then married, and then she’d get pregnant, and suddenly Betty can see her entire life stretched out before her, year by year, and she doesn’t want any of it. 

“Juggie, do you want to go for a drive?” she asks suddenly, her voice sounding frantic. Jughead quirks an eyebrow.

“Betts, isn’t Archie supposed to pick you up soon?” Jughead glanced over at the Andrews house. 

“I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go to prom, I don’t want to go with Archie, I don’t…. I don’t want any of this.” she frowned, waving her hands around at her outfit and her white lily corsage. “Who wears white lilies for prom, Jughead? They’re funeral flowers! Because I’m mourning the end of my life as I know it!” her voice was desperate now, and she all but ripped the corsage off and tossed it on the floor, pricking her finger on a piece of floral wire in the process. 

“Are you okay, Betty?” Jughead asked, stepping closer to her. Betty shook her head, nursing her injured finger. 

“Will you wait for me? Just for a minute? I have to do something.” 

Jughead nods, so without another word, Betty sheds her heels and takes off at full speed up the stairs, practically tripping over her dress. When she reached her room, she shed the dress, and all the ridiculous shapewear her mother had made her put on. Instead, she dug through her drawers and pulled out her favorite dress, a purple floral swing dress, and an old river vixens hoodie and her converse. Glancing at her new reflection in the mirror, she swiped her lipstick off with a spare piece of tissue, and put on a darker shade that Veronica had lent her some months ago. Then she took all the bobby pins out of her hair, yanking it down from it’s perfect curly updo, and shook it out until it was loose around her face. She grinned, and ran downstairs. Jughead stood in the doorway, looking completely baffled. Betty was typing away on her phone, then looked up and nodded. 

“What is going on?” Jughead asked finally, staring at Betty. 

“Let’s go somewhere. Let’s just… go somewhere. I’ll pay for gas. And food. I just… let’s _go_ Juggie.” Betty pleads, blinking her wide eyes at him. Jughead breaks into a grin and tugs Betty’s arm. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of dodge, Betty Cooper.” he said with a nod. She grinned and squealed, wrapping him in a tight hug, and letting herself enjoy the solid warmth of his chest. 

“Let’s go.” Betty repeated, grinning somewhat manically before grabbing her purse from the chair and booking it out the front door, Jughead following on her heels until they reached his truck.

Now

Betty is in the passenger seat of Adam’s sedan, staring blankly out of the window as they make their way towards Riverdale. Telling Adam’s family had been easy, they only lived a few bus routes away from the apartment Betty and Adam shared in the city. Originally, Betty was going to just tell her family over the phone, but Adam insisted on driving them to her hometown to tell them all in person. It was sweet, really. It was just that Betty didn’t want to go home. Home was Archie, who was still family, still loved her, but had never quite forgiven her for ditching him with a single text message the night of senior prom. Home was Polly’s twins, and the wing of Thistlehouse they lived in, and the way Cheryl and Polly both lived in constant quiet grief over the man they both lost. Home was her mother, and the look of relief Betty knew would cross Alice Cooper’s face when she found out Betty was marrying such a nice young man. Home was the absence of her father, knowing he’d left them behind without a thought the moment Polly’s unwed pregnancy compromised his absurd morals. 

Worst of all, home was Jughead Jones, the best friend she’d loved but left behind. 

He hadn’t ever asked her to stay, of course. That wasn’t who he was. He knew she wanted out of Riverdale, so he let her go, even as he got stuck. They’d kept in touch, at first, but life got busy, and Betty just let her old life fade away. It had just seemed… easier that way. Adam, not for lack of trying, didn’t understand. But only people from Riverdale ever really understood the way the town clung to you, scrabbling to pull you back into its orbit. The only way to free yourself was to cut all ties and run. 

Adam coasted past the first of many ‘Riverdale: The Town with Pep!’ signs, and Betty felt her heart drop into her stomach.

(Then)

Betty rolled down the window of Jughead’s truck, sticking her head out into the night air, watching her best friend speed them past the Riverdale town limits. A laugh bubbled from her throat.

“Thank you.” she said, turning to him with a smile. Jughead glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, offering her a lopsided grin. 

“Any time, Cooper. Any time.” he said as he flicked on his turn signal, making his way onto the highway. 

“Where are we going, anyway?” Betty asked, toeing off her sneakers and pulling her feet up into the seat. 

“I was thinking we drive out to Atlantic City. Go to the boardwalk, eat at a buffet. I have camping stuff in the truck bed, or we can find a cheap and deeply sketchy motel.”

“Juggie,” Betty says with a laugh “What are we going to do in Atlantic City? We can’t drink or gamble.”

Jughead looks at her like she’s just said something incredibly stupid.

“Arcades, Betts.” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Betty laughs again, and sticks her head and right arm out of the window.

“Let’s go to Atlantic City!” she yelled, attracting a glare from an older man driving next to them. 

Now

Steeling herself in the driveway of her childhood home, Betty wonders what her mother will have done with her bedroom. A home office? Playroom for the twins? A generic yet well appointed guest room? Whatever Alice has done, Betty just hopes she hasn’t let it sit, untouched, gathering dust. The last thing she wants to see is a faded pink shrine to the person she used to be. The person everyone still expects her to be. 

“Come on, honey.” Adam called from closer to the door. Betty sighed, and pushed away from the dark blue car, moving to stand beside her fiance as he rang the doorbell. There was silence, Alice’s distant voice, and then the shuffle of kitten heels on hardwood. 

“Oh! Elizabeth, and Adam! What a wonderful surprise.” Alice smiled, swinging the door open wider and waving them in. “Should I call Polly and the twins over? We could have dinner. I’m sure I can toss together a meal for us all.”

Betty resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Alice Cooper had never ‘tossed’ anything together in her entire life. Betty was more than positive that her mother had frozen and nonperishable supplies for a three course meal in her freezer and pantry as they spoke. 

“Sure, mom. Sounds great.” Betty said, smiling stiffly. 

“I’ll have Polly pick up some fresh bread. And maybe a bottle of wine. Adam, remind me, do you prefer red, or white?” Alice asked, already tapping away at a text message to her older daughter. Betty wasn’t sure why Alice was asking because if Polly was picking up bread, her mother was heating up pasta, and Alice only ever served pasta with red wine. Adam was, by all accounts, perfect, and here her mother was, still testing him after all this time. 

“Red, please.” Adam replied, smiling politely. 

“I’m going to run to the upstairs bathroom and freshen up, if you guys don’t mind.” Betty offered quietly, then slipping away down the hall before either her mother or fiance could reply either way. Once up stairs, she slipped past the bathroom and to the door of her old room. The door was open, and inside it looked exactly as Betty had left it all those years ago. She took a deep breath and rubbed a hand over her face, trying to collect herself. Her old vanity catches her eye, and she walks over, smiling sadly at the assortment of trinkets and photos she’d left behind when she moved away. Track trophies, cheer ribbons, old tubes of lipsticks, pictures of her high school friends. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices a photo booth strip tucked under the edge of the mirror, and she reaches out to brush it with her fingers. 

The strip is from one of those old fashioned photo booths, where you have to wait for the ink on the photos to dry before you can pick them up. Betty recognizes the photos easily, and the memory tugs at her heart as she pulls them from beneath the frame. 

(Then)

The night is warm in Atlantic City, and Betty and Jughead stroll arm in arm down the boardwalk. The sun is still setting, as the world creeps towards summer, but the city almost looks like daylight bathed in so much neon. Jughead is holding what is possibly the biggest corn dog Betty has ever seen in her life, including that time she went to the New York State Fair the year Polly did 4-H. In her free hand is a swirled soft-serve cone, one side strawberry and the other chocolate, and Betty is so light she can’t even hear her mother’s voice in her head scolding her about empty calories. 

“So.” Jughead says after a few minutes, tilting his head to look over at her. “Are we gonna talk about you flipping out, or are we ignoring that for the time being?”

“Can we ignore it just a little bit longer?” Betty asks, looking up at him. He shrugs, then nods. 

“Whatever you need, Betts.”

Something in Betty’s chest aches, deep and bruising. She tries to count the number of times Jughead has told her that, the number of times he’s dropped everything for her, the number of times he’d gone out of his way to make sure she was okay when Archie was being… well, Archie. She remembered showing up at his trailer in the middle of the night when her dad left, knowing his dad wouldn’t be home, and Jughead hadn’t said a word as he opened the door and let her in. Neither of them said a word as he waved her into his bed and laid beside her, hand on top of hers as she sobbed quietly. 

“What do _you_ need, Juggie?” she asks, suddenly serious. 

“I honestly don’t know.” Jughead replied. Betty squeezed his arm and looked around before checking her wallet, then scrolling through her phone for a minute. 

“I have a plan of attack.” she declared, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “First, we are going to go sit in that ancient looking photo booth over there. Then, we are going to walk to a liquor store where I am going to use the fake id Veronica gave me which I have literally never used to buy us something disgusting, and then we’re going to sit on the beach, drink it, and watch it get dark.”

“Betty Cooper, you are truly a genius.” Jughead said sagely, and then he let her tug him in the direction of the old photo booth.

“This way,” Betty said as Jughead ducked under the dusty velvet curtain “We’ll technically still have prom pictures.”

“Sure, except we’re in another state, and you’re wearing a cheer hoodie.” he smirked. Betty rolled her eyes and followed him into the booth. An awkward moment ensued, as the two stood in the cramped booth and stared at the single metal and vinyl stool.

“Come on, Betts.” Jughead said finally, throwing himself onto the stool and then patting his thighs. “We’ve been in enough crowded cars to know how this works.” he grinned at her, and Betty smiled softly as she lowered herself down onto his lap. Carefully, Jughead steadied her by putting his arms around her waist, leaving Betty to lean forward and work the machine. As she slid ones into the proper slot, she tried not to get too distracted by how warm Jughead’s chest was, resting against her back, or how strong and steady his arms felt wrapped around her waist. It was easy to forget Jughead was strong when he was always standing right next to Archie, who was built every inch like the quarterback that he was. Jughead may have been wiry, but he’d spent his summers helping with the same contract and construction work Archie had. 

Money inserted, Betty leaned back and read over the prompts and instructions. There was a large green button to press when they were ready to begin, and several arrows making it obvious where they needed to look. She looked back at Jughead, to see if he was ready, and he nodded, so she hit the button, and watched the countdown flash as she leaned back into Jughead’s chest. For the first picture, the two just smile contentedly into the camera. For the second, they elect to take silly ones, Jughead stretching out his cheeks and making a face, Betty crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. In the third, they’re simply laughing in the aftermath of the previous photo. For the final picture, Betty makes a last minute decision. Before the last flashbulb can go off, she leans down, just slightly, and presses her lips to Jughead’s cheek, just barely brushing the corner of his mouth. Just for a moment, his hands tighten around her waist, and he stares at her, eyes wide and pupils dark, before the buzz of machine alerts them that their time is up. 

Now

Betty stares at the strip of photos, remembering that brief fraction of a kiss, and wonders why she never really did anything about her crush on Jughead. It was always there, in the background radiation of her life, even when she was supposedly crushing on and pursuing Archie. Archie was sweet, but he was equally fickle. Jughead may have always been on the prickly side, but he was as constant as a rock. 

Maybe that’s why she never did anything, she thinks to herself, tracing her finger along the edge of the photo strip. Maybe she was afraid to lose the only thing she never really worried about losing. Letting herself sit heavily on the edge of the bed, Betty pulls out her phone. She is home in Riverdale, after all. Nothing wrong with seeing an old friend. Assuming that friend has the same phone number her did years back. Working to outrun her own nerves, she tapped out a message. 

Jughead:  
_Hey, it’s Betty. Betty Cooper. I’m in Riverdale. Wanna catch up? Meet me at Pop’s. Food’s on me._

She didn’t wait for a response. Betty simply stood up, crossed the room to her window, and looked outside. Right where it always was the ladder her mother used to clean the gutters. She pulled the window open, tugged the ladder over, and slipped out of her bedroom without a sound, cutting across town to reach Pop’s as soon as possible. Whether Jughead showed or her didn’t, she couldn’t be here right now. Her mother would blame it on nerves, and Adam would be as blandly understanding as always, telling her it would be okay without thinking to ask what was wrong. The first time he’d seen her have a panic attack had been a nightmare. It had also been the last time Adam saw her have a panic attack, because now Betty had them hidden in the bathroom with the shower on, like she was living with college roommates or her mother again. 

As Betty slid into an empty booth in the far back corner of Pop’s, all she could think was that she was disappointed in herself. She’d known for months that Adam was planning to propose; he’d made it very obvious. And ever since she figured it out, she’d been back sliding. Needing her emergency meds more often, having more panic attacks, waking up at 4am to go on longer and longer jogs to expend her nervous energy. She’d lost weight, she was avoiding therapy appointments. 

Betty Cooper was a verified, certified, absolute mess. 

Shaken from her reverie by a throat being cleared, Betty looked up and smiled at Pop, who was standing patiently by her table. 

“Well if it isn’t Betty Cooper, come back home.” he said jovially, setting a strawberry milkshake on the table in front of her. “On the house.”

“Thanks, Pop. I could definitely use a milkshake.” she laughed, somewhat sadly, and offered a shrug. 

“Oh, I know. I always do. Need anything to eat?”

“Just a side of fries, for now please. I’m uh, waiting for someone. Maybe. Hopefully.” Betty chewed her bottom lip, and Pop chuckled. 

“Don’t worry honey, he’s right outside. Heard his bike pull up a minute ago.” Pop winked and started to walk away. 

“Wait, what?” Betty called out to him, her brow furrowing just as the bell over the front door jingled. She turned to look, and there he was. Jughead Jones, and still wearing that goddamn beanie. 

“Who else would you be waiting for?” Pop called over his shoulder before vanishing into the kitchen. 

Betty turned back to Jughead. He was looking at her, and his face was guarded, but not as guarded as she’d been afraid it would be. 

“Hey.” she said, her voice rough and quiet, barely carrying across the diner. 

“Welcome back to the town with pep, Betty Cooper.” Jughead responded, smirking wryly and walking towards her booth. 

(Then)

“I can’t believe it’s that easy to buy booze. I’m barely eighteen, Juggie!” Betty said, giggling as the two of them settled into blanket they’d pulled from Jughead’s trunk once it started to get chilly. They were just above the tide line, where the sand started to dry out, watching the water as the last rays of sunlight sink into the sand dunes behind their heads, two six packs of sickly sweet wine coolers nestled in the sand at their feet. They’d had two each so far, and it was showing. Jughead had pulled off his beanie and shoved it in his pocket, complaining his face was warm from drinking. Betty’s face was flushed and her eyes bright. 

“Of course that dude sold you booze, Betts. You’re… you’re beautiful. You’re the best looking thing I’ve ever seen.” Jughead’s eyes widened as he spoke, then immediately withdrew, shaking his head in apology. Betty looked over at him, soft and curious. 

She’d had crushes on Jughead on and off for their entire lives. And yes, she was afraid to lose him, and that’s part of why she never said anything. But she’d also avoided it because he could be so goddamn hard to read. Did he like her back? Did he like anybody?It was senior prom, and all through high school she’d seen him go on one single date with Ethel Muggs freshman year, and he hadn’t shut up about how awful it was for the next six weeks. 

“You think so?” she asked quietly, chewing her bottom lip in thought. 

“I always wondered what the fuck Arch was doing, stringing you along like that. I mean, I know he’s my best friend, he and Fred have done more for me than anyone, except maybe, well, you. But he can be kind of a dumbass.” Jughead shrugged. His cheeks were flushed from embarrassment, and since he didn’t have the beanie on, Betty could see it extended all the way to the tips of his ears. 

“Well, after tonight I think it’s safe to say ‘Barchie’ is cooked.” Betty said with a laugh, flopping backwards so she was laying down instead of sitting. Jughead followed suit, rolling to his side and propping himself up on an elbow, watching her. 

“Oh, are we talking about that now?” he raised an eyebrow. Betty sighed. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess we are.” 

“Why’d you run, Betts? It’s senior prom with Archie Andrews. It’s all you’ve wanted since we were like, eight years old.” Jughead looked at her closely, his eyes full of concern. Betty didn’t think anyone else ever looked at her like that. 

“Because as soon as I realized what was happening, I didn’t want any of it. I didn’t want prom, or Archie, or the inevitable high school reunion football field proposal,” Betty paused for a moment when Jughead snorted in laughter at that. She smiled at him fondly. “He would,” she said, giggling. “He would and you know he would. Anyway, and then we’d get married and all of fucking Riverdale would be there, giving speeches about how beautiful and inevitable it was, and then Fred would build us a house with Archie’s help, and then we’d raise perfect strawberry blonde children and grow old and die and be buried in the same cemetary as everyone else in this godforsaken town.” Betty blew her bangs out of her eyes, glancing over at Jughead, who was watching her, eyes both intent and sympathetic. “When you made that comment about me being occupied after prom, I could see my entire future so clearly. And I didn’t want _any_ of it, Jug. Not a single second. I realized all I wanted was to go to Pop’s and drink milkshakes with you, and skip everything else.” her voice is soft and low by the end of her speech, and Jughead is staring at her. She can’t read the look in his eyes at all, but he makes himself clear when he puts aside his third wine cooler to grasp her face in both his hands and press his lips to hers. 

Now

Even when they were kids, and Jughead was a scared little outcast, he projected this solidness and confidence. It was what had drawn Betty to him when they were young. He just made her feel safe. He still radiated that same energy, sprawling out across from her in the booth like he owned the place. And honestly, if he still spent as much time here as he did in high school, he really might as well have. 

“I guess I should open with an apology,” Betty began, and Jughead smirked at her, raising an eyebrow before cutting her off.

“For what? For doing exactly what you said you were going to and getting the fuck out of dodge? Cut the crap, Betts.” she expected him to sound bitter, but he just sounds amused, smiling at her from over the two giant plates of fries Pop dropped on their table with a wink. 

“For leaving you behind.” she said, her voice soft as she shook her head “for being a shitty friend.” Jughead shrugged, offering her the smallest, saddest smile she’d ever seen.

“We both had shit to work out, Betts.” he said with a shrug, surprising Betty when he reached across the table and squeezed her hand. His fingers were still warm and calloused, exactly like they’d always been. 

“So what have you been up to, Jug?” she asked. He shot her a look, and she could tell he had wanted to ask what she was doing back, but she just didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe she still wanted to pretend it wasn’t really happening. 

“I’m getting ready to move, actually. Finally.” his eyes are glowing with pride, and Betty smiles at him broadly. 

“Jug! That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, I uh, I’ve been doing school online while I work for Andrews Construction. Fred’s been letting me stay with him, rent free, so I can save up. JB just graduated from college, and is entering a graduate program soon, because she wants to teach, and I can work remotely once my degree is done, so, we’re gonna rent a house together, in Brooklyn.” 

Betty reached across the table, her eyes sparkling with joy for her best friend, and grasped both of his hands firmly. 

“I’m so proud of you.” she says quietly, and both of them are taken aback by how thick with emotion her voice is. 

“So what brings you back to Riverdale?” Jughead asked, gently pulling his hands away, his face slightly red. Betty’s face went sheet white, and she shook her head, taking a drink from her milkshake. She thinks for a moment, chews her lip, and looks up at Jughead. 

“Jug, do you wanna go for a drive?” she asks, her eyes twinkling.

(Then)

Jughead Jones was kissing her. Betty had been kissed before, of course. Archie, Reggie, Trev Brown. But even with Archie, the boy she was supposed to have been in love with forever, none of those kisses had ever felt like _this_. She felt the world turning on its axis. In that moment, all of space and time rearranged themselves to light up the path to what Betty _did_ want, which was to never, ever stop kissing Jughead Jones. She pulls herself closer to him, burying herself in his warmth.

“This,” she whispered quietly, pulling her lips from his to look him in the eyes. “I ran because I wanted this. I think I always have.”

The next morning, when they wake up cold and scratchy and hungover in the bed of Jughead’s truck, Betty will barely remember saying those words, lost in the haze of wine coolers and exhaustion, but as she speaks them, she knows it is the biggest truth she has ever spoken. 

Sometimes later, when they’ve finished the wine coolers together and stored the mess and the blanket in Jughead’s truck, they pull themselves to their feet, still intertwined, and move to walk into the twinkling city, hand in hand, drunk and giggling. 

Now

Jughead looks at her critically, evaluating, and Betty squirms uncomfortably. If he says no, which he could, maybe even should, she thinks it might destroy her, and she quietly decides not to dwell on that particular line of thinking too closely. Suddenly, Jughead breaks into a grin. 

“How about a ride, instead?” he asks, pointing out of Pop’s windows at his motorcycle parked out front. 

“Yeah.” Betty nods, agreeing without even thinking. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, her mother’s disapproving shrieks echo, but she tunes them out. “Let’s go.” 

Being on the back of Jughead’s motorcycle, Betty thinks to herself, is everything she was missing from her life in New York City. Sure, she liked her routine. Her routine allowed her to function, to deal with her mental and emotional problems, but alone in the city with Adam, there was no one to push her, to convince her to take risks, and try new things, and then be just as willing to hold her hand through the inevitable fall out. 

In short, there was no Jughead Jones in New York City. Betty can feel his heart thrumming through his ribs, her arms wound tightly around his waist. He’s bigger than she remembers, more solid and muscular. The leather jacket he wears smells like motor oil, and the scent hits Betty with a bittersweet tang as she remembered the early days with her father, before he joined the church and left them behind. The days when she and her dad would hole up in the garage while he taught Betty everything he could about cars, both new and old, even as her mother hummed disapprovingly in the background. 

When had she stopped working on cars? Was it when she left Riverdale? No, she’d worked summers in a shop in the city for awhile. It must have been, she decided, watching the town streak past her, when she started dating Adam. Being in a serious relationship where both parties worked had left little room for non-shared hobbies, and Adam had been raised with money and couldn’t tell car parts from each other if they reared up and bit him. 

The more she thought about it, the more she realized this was exactly like the night of her senior prom. And she’d already done what she did to fix that problem, which was run off with Jughead. But what had they done afterwards? What had helped her coast for so long before doing it all over again? Their night in Atlantic City was fuzzy after they’d watched the sunset together on the beach. Betty had never quite pieced together everything that happened, and she’d never been able to get herself to ask Jughead if he remembered anymore than she did. Probably not. Twelve wine coolers was a lot split between two lightweight eighteen year olds who were usually goody two shoes about that sort of thing. Sighing quietly, Betty simply buries her face deeper into Jughead’s back, picking up the scent of the same Old Spice body wash he’d used since high school under the smell of leather and oil. Her fingers grasped unconsciously at his tshirt as she clung to the familiarity of that scent. 

Jughead pulls off the road at one of the dozens of overlook spots for Sweet Water river, a few miles deep into the nothing behind Riverdale and Greendale. 

“That was fun.” Betty said, smiling as Jughead helped her off the bike. 

“Yeah. I took it up when, uh, nevermind.” he shook his head suddenly, wrinkling his nose in a strange little expression Betty recognized from childhood. She frowned and put a hand on his arm, squeezing gently.

“What, Jug?”

“When my dad went to jail. About four years back. He’s still there. DUI. On a suspended license. And uh, vehicular manslaughter.”

Jughead looks like he wants the earth to swallow him whole. Betty doesn’t say anything at first, just leans in, wrapping him in a silent hug, the way she used to when he would walk to the Cooper house after FP and Gladys started fighting. Before they moved to the other side of town, and FP started drinking again. 

“I tried to visit once, but I just… I can’t see him.” Jughead shrugged, leaning back against his bike. Betty nodded, keeping herself close to him still. 

“That’s okay.” she said simply, nodding “And if anyone says it’s not, I will put gum in their hair, like when Cheryl stole your beanie in fifth grade.”

“God,” Jughead paused, letting out a snort of laughter “she was pissed at you about that for years.”

“Once we became friends, and I met Penelope and Clifford, I actually felt really bad about it. I’m pretty sure they punished her for having to cut her hair.” Betty wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. 

“Yeah, the Blossoms make my mom and dad look like Leave it to Beaver or something.”

“Jug, everyone looks like Leave it to Beaver when compared to Crimson Peak.” Betty said playfully, poking Jughead in the ribs. He laughed again, then looked at her seriously. 

“What are you doing, Betty?” he asks, his voice suddenly so quiet she has to strain to understand him. She sighs, and sinks down onto the ground. Jughead follows suit, and extends an arm, offering to wrap it around her shoulders. She accepts, leaning into him and staring up at the cloudy sky.

“I’m here to tell have dinner with my mom and Polly and tell them I’m getting married.” Betty said slowly, pulling the glittering diamond ring from the pocket of her jeans. 

“You’re getting married.” Jughead said, his voice flat in that intentional, practiced way he used to use to talk about his parents, or her and Archie.

“Supposed to. His name is Adam. We’ve been together two years. He’s a lawyer. He bought me white lilies.” she said, and her voice was quiet and tired, not the wistful voice she’d always heard people describe their engagements in. 

“You hate lilies.” Jughead said easily, and Betty could hear the quietest hint of distaste in his voice. Looking away from him, she nodded and smiled. 

“Funeral flowers.” she said simply “Who wants to be proposed to with funeral flowers? How does a man want to marry me and not know that I hate lilies, or that I don’t want to come to Riverdale and make some big fucking deal about things?” Frustration is starting to leak into Betty’s voice, and she can hear herself tearing up, so she scrubs at her eyes with her fists. 

“Isn’t this everything you ever wanted, growing up?” Jughead asks, his voice quiet. He’s watching her. She can feel his eyes on her face, just like always. 

“Well, senior year, I thought I wanted Archie too.” Betty offered, chuckling with a bitter undertone to it. 

“Yeah. And instead of going to prom with Archie, you begged me to drive you to Atlantic City.” Jughead responded. His voice was playful, but there was a note beneath it Betty couldn’t put a finger on. A note that made her feel guilt and hope she didn’t know how to place, or classify. 

“I did not beg! I asked once! And Atlantic City was your idea, Jug, I just wanted to leave.” her words were back with laughter, but tinged with desperation. “How much of that night do you even remember?”

“Not a lot.” Jughead admitted, his face softening. There was a look in his eyes though, again, that Betty couldn’t pin down. She squinted at him obviously, and Jughead responded by raising an eyebrow and then making a face, causing Betty to dissolve into laughter. 

“I missed you.” Betty said suddenly, after a few minutes of silence. 

“I missed you too, Betts.” Jughead gave her a shy smile, and reached over and squeezed her hand. When he moved to pull away, she gripped his fingers, trying to keep them locked with her own. He stilled, seeming to think for a minute, then let her tug his hand into her lap as she rested her head on his shoulder. 

They sit there is silence, for hours. Leaning against Jughead’s bike, well off the highway, watching the water of the river darken as the sun set behind them. Their hands are still clasped, laying across one of Betty’s thighs, and Jughead’s thumb strums a rhythm against the skin of her hand. 

“We should head back.” Jughead says, his voice quiet when he finally breaks the silence. She can only hear him because his lips and so close to her ears, and it sends oddly familiar shivers down her spine. 

“Yeah,” Betty replied, nodding sadly. “I’m surprised my mother hasn’t called the cops on me yet.”

“What?” Jughead asked, looking both concerned and amused. 

“I told her and Adam I was going to ‘freshen up’ in the upstairs bathroom and then I climbed out my bedroom window.” Betty states simply, and then both of them burst into truly hysterical laugher. “Jesus!” Betty manages to wheeze out a few minutes later. “I am a grown ass woman, and I crawled out of my bedroom window like a fourteen year old to avoid my mother and the man I’m supposed to want to marry! What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Maybe that’s not what you want.” Jughead responds, staring at her intensely. 

Betty’s breath catches in her throat, but the moment is interrupted by squealing tires, and then, seconds later, the shrill cry of none other than Alice Cooper herself. 

“Elizabeth Cooper!” Alice bellowed, having noticed FP’s old bike and making a beeline towards it. Betty scrambled to her feet, her pants and palms dusty and damp, and she stood in front of Jughead, like she somehow thought she could hide the taller man from her mother by standing between them. 

“You can’t just run off like that! It’s been hours, and I find you on the side of the highway, in the dark, with Jughead Jones, a man who’s father runs a GANG and is in JAIL.” Alice continued her tirade, and Betty squared her shoulders, urging herself not to flex her fists, not to drive her polished nails into the skin of her palms. She ends up crossing them behind her back, trying to grip her own elbows, but she feels Jughead slip his hands into hers, putting skin between hers and her nails. He squeezes her hands, just barely. 

“I wanted to catch up with Jughead. We’re friends, as you may remember.” Betty said, keeping her voice airy and light. 

“I know, Elizabeth.” Alice said cooly, and uncrossed her arms. “I know a lot of things. Including something you’ve been hiding from me for years.” Alice’s gaze flicked between Betty and Jughead coolly. “When you ran off, I was terrified, and obviously I asked Adam what he thought might be happening, and being the dear that he is, he told me all about your proposal, and how nervous you were about getting my blessing.”

Betty fights the urge to snort with laughter. The idea Adam thought she was nervous about her mother’s approval of him was nothing short of absurd. First of all, Alice loved Adam. Adam was the perfect man for her perfect daughter. Second of all, Adam knew how complicated Betty and Alice’s relationship was. He’d just never truly managed to wrap his head around it. Behind her, Betty hears Jughead stifle a similar fit of laughter with a cough, earning him a glare from Alice, and a smile from Betty, even if he couldn't actually see the latter. 

So, we decided to ease your worries before I came to find you. I figured you were at Pop’s, so I stopped at the town hall of records for an errand and headed over there, and Pop told me you’d already come and gone.” Alice’s tone was even and cold, and it was making Betty nervous. 

“Ease my worries?” she asked cautiously. 

“I was going to pick up your marriage license, for you and Adam, to assure you how heartily I approve of him, but when I tried to process the application-”

“You WHAT?” Betty shouted suddenly, glaring at her mother, taken aback. Even for Alice Cooper, that was bad. 

“Relax. It didn’t work.” Alice glared at her, then Jughead. Betty blinked, shaking her head. 

“Obviously not. You would need my signature!” Betty crossed her arms harshly. 

“Please, Elizabeth. I know how to forge your signature. But when-”

“You FORGED my signature? On a marriage certificate? Before I even told you I was engaged?” Betty’s arms fell to her sides, her jaw slack and her eyes wounded.

“Let me finish. As I said, it didn’t work, because the clerk informed me that one cannot have two separate current marriage certificates on file.” Alice said, arching an eyebrow and fixing Betty with another glare. Betty frowned, staring in abject confusion at her mother. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Betty cried out. Behind her, she felt Jughead go still, then nudge her elbow so she’d look at her mother’s right arm. Waving madly, clutched in Alice’s right hand, was a marriage certificate. It was filled out sloppily, in writing Betty recognized as her own when she’d had too much to drink. The names on the boilerplate form read ‘Elizabeth Ann Cooper’ and ‘Forsythe Pendleton Jones III.’

When she sees their names, side by side, it all comes rushing back to Betty at once. 

(Then)

Betty was wandering the streets of Atlantic City, swaying slightly in her drunkenness, Jughead’s hand firmly clasped in hers. In low voices, the talked easily as they window shopped, or drooled over food and sweets in various windows, until they came to a small cafe with a huge chocolate cake in the window and a sign that reads ‘Open Late’, and Betty could literally hear Jughead’s stomach growling. 

“Don’t even ask, the answer is yes.” she said, giggling and leaning up to press a swift kiss to the corner of his mouth. But before she can pull away, he puts his hands on her face again, kissing her soundly under the soft glow of neon from the boardwalk. She blinks up at him, starry eyed, as he opens the door for her, gesturing through playfully. 

They around sandwiches and cake and coffee and Italian sodas, constructing a tiny buffet in their corner booth, where they’ve both huddled into the same side, Jughead leaning on the wall as Betty leans on Jughead. The waitress who delivers all their food and drink twinkles at them. 

“You two make a lovely couple.” she said, smiling. Betty and Jughead both blushed silently. “I’m going to put a song I think you two will like on the ‘jukebox’” she wiggled her hands in air quotes, gesturing to the muzak system in the other corner, stylized to resemble a jukebox from the fifties. “Y’all can pay up front whenever you’re ready. Holler if you need anything.” she drops the ticket and smiles, vanishing into the back. When the current song peters out, a familiar tune to both Betty and Jughead begins to pipe through the speakers. 

_Moon river, wider than a mile  
I'm crossing you in style some day  
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker  
Wherever you're goin', I'm goin' your way_

“Oh, I love that movie.” Betty says dreamily, staring into space and stabbing at her cake. 

“Mhm.” Jughead agrees, eyes closed as he enjoys the combination of music and delicious food. “Shame about Mickey Rooney though.”

“I fast forward his bits when I want to rewatch it.” Betty said, wrinkling her nose. “I can’t believe Capote hated Hepburn for that role. I think she did amazing.”

“She was good.” Jughead smiled and nodded, looking away and seeming to think about something, then turned back to her, looking into her eyes with unmatched intensity. “I think Holly would have made a good blonde, though.” his eyes flick up to the loose waves framing her face, and Betty’s heart switches into overdrive. 

“Juggie,” she blurts suddenly, scrabbling for her emergency credit card in her bag to pay for their food “Juggie, do you want to do something really, really stupid?” she asks, leaning over the table, and taking his hands in hers. She knows she’s drunk and she knows this is a certifiably bananas idea, but she looks over at him, hair ruffled under his beanie, eyes tired and bleary but still smiling at her, and she feels like she’s never, ever wanted anything in her life until this moment. Even the desperate cry in her bones to leave Riverdale in her dust doesn’t compare to the feeling she had in her chest that night, staring at Jughead Jones. 

“Anything, Betts.” he whispers, and the only way she can think to describe his tone is reverant. It erases any doubt or fear she had about what she was about to say next. 

“Let’s get married.” she said, her voice breathy and excited, still clutching Jughead’s hands. He stares at her, wide eyed, and Betty feels a split second of fear, but then Jughead’s face just melts, and he pulls her across the table to kiss her again, breaking a glass in the process. 

They leave a 120% tip to apologize before running out the door of the cafe, drunk and giggling as they use Betty’s phone to find a chapel. 

If anyone there has a problem with two very inebriated teenagers getting married in the middle of the night, they keep their mouths shut. The ceremony is a blink of an eye, just an exchanging of words and scribbling their names on a piece of paper that then gets slipped into a pre addressed envelope and slipped into a mailbox in the street outside. Jughead makes an uncharacteristic sound Betty can only think to call a yelp of joy, and he picks her up, holding her tight in his arms and twirling her around as he kisses her. 

The next morning, they wake up hungover in a pile of bags and blankets in Jughead’s truck bed. Neither of them can quite recall the night before, after sitting at the seaside, so they shrug it off, and walk to a nearby Denny’s to get breakfast and then drive back to Riverdale, like nothing had ever happened. 

Now

“Holy shit.” Jughead says lowly, at the same time Betty, still slack jawed, yelps out “Prom night.” 

THe reality of the situation starts to dawn on Alice, and she looks even more furious than before. 

“Elizabeth! Are you telling me that when you ran off the night of your senior prom, you drove off somewhere and _ married Jughead Jones_ and then _ forgot about it in the morning_?”

“Yep, yep. That seems to be the situation.” Betty says stiffly, then bursts into hysterical laughter again. She ignores her mother for the time being, turning to look back at Jughead, who looks like he might be about to pass out. “God, I can’t believe we skipped prom night to get wasted and then got married. What is that? The plot of an episode of Castle?”

“It’s also an episode of Bones, I think.” Jughead offers, still stunned. 

“You were _drunk_?!” Alice shouted. Betty rolled her eyes, turning to look at her mother.

“Mom, when you were in high school you were literally in a gang. Shut up.” Betty laughed again, and then shook her head, turning back to Jughead. “I need to do something. A few things. Will you meet me at Pop’s? In like, an hour? Can you get over there safely?” her voice is laced with concern as she looks Jughead over, glancing at his bike nervously. He shakes his head, steadies himself, and then smiles at her warmly. Nods. Squeezes her hand lightly, before he puts in his helmet. 

“Please don’t be late.” he says softly, too soft for Alice to hear. Betty smiles, and shakes her head. reaching up to tug on his helmet. 

“I won’t be.” she whispered back, and then turned to face Alice once more. 

“Come on, mom. Let’s go home.”

Alice is too taken aback by her daughter’s easy cooperation to wonder what exactly is going on, so Betty simply slips herself into the passenger seat and rides in silence back to her childhood home. 

She should be nervous. She should be nauseous and clawing at herself with fear. Instead, Betty Cooper feels calm as Alice pulls into the driveway. She can see Adam inside the house, backlit by the kitchen. He glances at his phone occasionally, but makes no other movements that seem to indicate he was worried about his fiance vanishing or what might happen when she came back. 

“It’s a bit late for dinner now, but I can still call-” Alice begins, and Betty shakes her head, leaning over to snag her mom’s phone from her, slipping it into her back pocket. 

“Mom? Adam? Could come to the dining room with me?” Alice’s eyes go wide as Betty speaks, but before her mother can say anything, Betty is somehow already halfway across the room, leaving the other two with no choice but to follow. They sit. She doesn’t. Silently, she reaches into the pocket of her jeans, concealing something in her fist until she sets it on the table in front of Adam. 

“I’m sorry.” she said simply, laying a hand on Adam’s shoulder for just a moment. “Adam, I’m sorry, but I can’t marry you. And I don’t really want to keep seeing you, either.” her tone is diplomatic, but it wavers for a second as she remembers the lilies from her proposal, from prom, and she takes a deep breath “And, for the record? I hate lilies. We’ve been together for two years, and I’ve mentioned that several times, and you never managed to get it through your head. I don’t think either of our hearts were ever really in this.”

“I’m… not sure I follow?” Adam asked, looking from Betty to Alice. 

“Now now, don’t worry, Elizabeth is just panicking. She does that. There’s been a slight hiccup, that’s all, it will be resolved, and then we can start preparing for the wedding. Would you prefer the church, or Picken’s Park, Betty?”

“Mom, I spent three years protesting Picken’s Park in high school, why would you even suggest that? Also, I’m not panicking. I’ve been panicking for days. Weeks. Years. But not about this. I’m sure about this.” Betty took another deep breath, turning back to Adam. “Don’t worry about this too much. You were a perfectly adequate boyfriend, had I been anyone else. But uh, maybe learn to listen more. Seriously, Adam. Two years, and you couldn’t remember I hate lilies?” Betty shook her head. “I’ll have my things out of our apartment by the end of the week. And mom, I’ll be taking the few things I want from my room, and then you can do what you want with it. I think if I come visit Riverdale from now on, I’ll stay with Cheryl and Polly.”

“Elizabeth, don’t be an idiot.” Alice snapped, moving to stand up. Betty stepped back, shaking her head. It was a stupid mistake you made as a teenager. What are you going to do? Stay married to someone you haven’t seen in nearly a decade?” 

That one finally shook Adam out of his haze, and he blanched. 

“What?” he asked, blinking in confusion. 

“The night of Betty’s senior prom, she left her date behind and went on a drive with one of her other friends, a boy named Jughead Jones. They didn’t come back until the next morning. And when I visited city hall earlier today, to deal with some things,”

“To forge my signature! On a marriage license!” Betty interrupted, starting to feel genuinely angry. Alice waved her off, and Adam just looked even more confused than before.

“Well, it turns out her and Jug-head got drunk, got married, and forgot about it the next morning. Of course, Elizabeth can’t marry you while she’s married to the local degenerate, so we’ll have to-”

“Mom!” Betty shouted, her body all but shaking with rage. “Shut up! I am not marrying Adam. I do not want to marry Adam. I should have said something when I realized he was going to ask, or said no when he did, or said something when he proposed this trip, but I didn’t, because all I could hear in the back of my head was _you_ droning on and on about me passing another Christmas or Easter, or another of the twin’s birthday parties as an unmarried woman. But this isn’t the life that I want! It wasn’t what I wanted then, and it isn’t what I want now! Tomorrow morning, I request one hour to myself in this house to take things that belong to me I want to keep, and then I don’t want to hear from you until _I_ say so!” Betty took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself at least a little. “Again, Adam,” she continued, her voice lower and calmer once more. “I do apologize. This is largely my fault. As I said, give me to the end of the week, and my things will be out of the apartment. Good bye. To both of you.” she said, her speech definitive as she turned on her toes and marched out of the house, walking all the way to Pop’s, on the border between the north and south sides of Riverdale. Without even looking for him, she threw herself into the same booth as earlier, the same booth she and Jughead always shared in school, when they would study together, or hangout while Archie was off on a date, or when they just wanted to not be at home. 

Betty startles when she bumps into something that is decidedly not the wall of the booth when she sits down. Alarmed, she starts to move, but then she catches that familiar scent of leather and Old Spice and motor oil, and Jughead’s arms are tugging her by the waist further into the booth. It was a bold approach, since she hadn’t told him exactly what she was doing, but then Jughead knew her. He always had. That was the whole point, after all. 

“I uh, brought you something.” Jughead mumbled, his voice almost shy as he gestures to the table. Tied up with a piece of what looks like butcher’s twine, probably acquired from Pop, was a bunch of wild flowers from the roadside they’d been sitting at earlier. Clustered in the middle were three buttercups, looking ever so slightly wilted. Betty smiled broadly. 

“Buttercups are my favorite flower.” she said quietly. Jughead shrugged, smiling at her crookedly. 

“I know.” he answered playfully. 

“So, what’s ten years? Is that tin?” Betty jokes, and Jughead just looks over at her, confused. 

“What?”

“Right, your parents aren’t Stepford Robots.” Betty rolled her eyes, chuckling good naturedly “It’s some old tradition. Every year’s wedding anniversary has a material theme, and the more years it’s been, the stronger the material. That’s where ‘gold’ and ‘silver’ anniversaries come from. I’m pretty sure tenth anniversary is tin.”

“I’ll buy you a can of pumpkin pie filling.” Jughead said seriously, offering her a lighthearted smirk. 

“But seriously, what are we going to do?” Betty asked after a moment, taking a sip of a milkshake Pop had dropped off unprompted at some point. 

“I have no idea.” Jughead said with a shrug. 

“Yeah, me either.” Betty replied, laughing. Jughead grinned at her. 

“You okay with that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, then stealing a sip of her milkshake. 

“Yeah.” she said, looking him right in the eyes with a soft smile, “I think I am.” she tilted her head thoughtfully, frowning just slightly “Well, except for one thing.”

“What’s that?” 

“WelI, I sort of dumped my fiance, so I don’t exactly have anywhere to go home to right now. Also, my mother might hate me.” Betty snorted, shaking her head at the entire situation. 

“Well,” Jughead repeated, pausing for effect and grinning at her. “I think I know a place where you can stay for tonight. If you want.” he tugged a lock of her hair, and Betty beamed at him, nodding. 

“I think that could be okay.” she responded, sounding almost shy.

“And as for your other problem…” Jughead paused, looking Betty up and down thoughtfully, seeming to steel himself for something. “How do you feel about Brooklyn?” his voice shook with the slightest note a fear as he asked, and Betty’s eyes went wide. 

“You want me to live with you? I, we…” Betty paused, taking in a gulp of air. “Are you sure you want that.”

“Betty,” he said, his voice soft and teasing as he tilted her chin up with a finger “we’ve been married for ten years.” 

Betty expressed a sound that was somewhere between a giggle and a sob, and Jughead suddenly looked alarmed. 

“Obviously, you don’t have to- I don’t expect- You just broke up with someone so-” he was babbling, starting to pull away from her, and Betty simply shook her head, grasping his face with two hands, the way he’d held her on the beach all those years ago. 

“We’ve been married for ten years, Juggie.” she said jokingly. “I think it’s about time we tried living together.” she whispered, before leaning in and kissing him. 

It was different from all the times before, the times she could now just barely remember in a haze of time and alcohol. On the beach, in the cafe, outside the chapel, inside the chapel, in the bed of Jughead’s truck as they fell asleep. They had all been amazing, all been nice, but this…. this was different. As she pulled away, to keep them from getting to out of control in an old diner where everyone knew them and their families, Betty smiled up at Jughead contentedly. 

“I would love to come live with you and JB in Brooklyn, Juggie. I really, really would.” 

“Thank god.” Jughead said with a nervous laugh, leaning down to press another kiss to her lips quickly before waving Pop down. “Hey Pop, can we get some food to go? Betty and I have some catching up to do.” he smirked down at her, wiggling his eyebrows and pulling her closer by the waist, making her giggle. Pop smiles broadly, and hands them two already prepared to go bags. Jughead salutes the older man, and tugs Betty along with him out of the restaurant, listening intently as she starts talking about tactics for organizing their sure to be massive mutual book collection. She glances up at him, before he helps her onto the back of his bike, and the way he looks at her makes her heart swell. She captures him in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to his neck, and then wrapped her arms around his waist, closing her eyes for the short ride back to his place. 

And in the morning, they would start a whole new life together.

**Author's Note:**

> so, ages ago i was thinking about how there are a lot of episodes on procedural shows where someone's marriage is interrupted by someone already being married, like angela and hodgins or castle and beckett, but the person always ends up divorcing the old spouse. but, i wondered to myself, what if after they realized they were already married, they also realized that first forgotten marriage wasn't actually a mistake? and so, this happened. hope y'all enjoyed! side note: no i have never been to atlantic city, but i wasnt going to have them vanish for a week to drive to vegas, so, willing suspensions of disbelief, thanks. <3


End file.
